He Is A Cheater
by bootsontheground
Summary: Response to a lilacmermaid Madam Secretary Prompt: (Passage) Elizabeth couldn't bear to ask Henry if he was having an affair, and instead allowed it to eat her alive.


Madam Secretary Prompt: (Passage) Elizabeth couldn't bear to ask Henry if he was having an affair, and instead allowed it to eat her alive.

A response to a prompt by lilacmermaid. -boots

Disclaimer: I do not own Madam Secretary.

…

She had walked, briskly, to the elevators. To the front check point. Through the doors, and to the SUV. To her own front door. To Henry. She hadn't stopped, she hadn't thought of whether to say anything or not. This was Henry; they didn't hide from each other.

But there he was, sitting at his desk with his brow furrowed and his angry red pen out. When he looked up, he smiled at her. It was light, and just like it usually was. It was Henry.

He couldn't have done this. Stevie had been mistaken.

_Then ask him._

No. He doesn't deserve this preposterousness. He is busy with a book. He doesn't deserve to be hounded by the wife that he has demonstrated every day for 23 years such love and devotion, only for her to demand he prove he isn't an adulterer.

I mean, really?! This is Henry McCord: patron saint of the guilty conscience. He let her move them to another state just to soothe his guilt over making her quit the CIA. Granted there was more to it, but she knew that was in there somewhere.

So, Elizabeth smiled back, kissed him on the cheek, and asked him how is day went- like the sweet wife he deserved she be.

* * *

Henry looked so happy today. He had gotten up early to go for a jog, started up coffee for when she came down, woke her with a wonderful smelling flower and muffin beneath her nose, and then headed to the shower with a saucy look that said to join him. But she hadn't; she was late to work so she shut him down, giving him a hurried kiss on the cheek, and promising to see if she could clear some time during lunch. She hurried along to get ready, and it didn't hit her until she was 5 minutes from the office, just what she had done.

_No wonder he's having an affair. I hope she's nicer to him than you._

Elizabeth felt the urge to cry. She was a terrible wife. No wonder Henry was- Henry was not having an affair. He wouldn't do that. End of discussion!

_Maybe not now, but the way you treat him… A man has needs: emotional… and physical._

* * *

Will said something once, when Henry and she had just gotten engaged and Will had been spending time with him to get to know the man she was going to marry. He had come back from a brief trip to the store and Henry was putting away a handful of groceries in the kitchen, when Will leaned in from behind her and whispered into her ear: "heavens knows how you bagged him, he's way better than you. You better hope he doesn't realize it before the wedding day. He's Catholic right; so, no worries of divorce?"

Will was just being a jerk then. They had just had one of their particularly gruesome fights, and he was digging right where he knew it would hurt. _But that doesn't mean he wasn't right._

Will was being mean, that's it.

_Will was being truthful. Henry is far better than you. He is the better parent, the better person, the better cook, and the better spouse. He deserves to be happy._

Oh, God! Was Henry truly that unhappy and she just couldn't see it?

He had been moved from his home to a city full of unethical people just for her work. His oldest child left the house because of her. He was subjected to scrutiny every day because of her. He was unable to freely speak his mind for fear of damaging her reputation. And then on top of that, she wasn't attentive or kind to him. She never cooked, and she always had to go. She put her work first and she didn't even try to look sexy at home anymore. Half the time they were together, she slept.

The poor man was probably out of his mind with guilt, simply because he was desperate for something other than her neglect.

* * *

"Mom?"

Elizabeth sat up like a shot. Stevie was at the bedroom door, peering in with puppy eyes.

"Yeah, baby?" Stevie seemed particularly shaken by what she'd seen but hadn't seemed to have said anything to her father about it. One good thing that came out of this whole thing was that Stevie was finally speaking to her again.

"I just wanted to talk… with you."

"About what?"

"Are you okay?"

"Yes, of course, Stevie. I'm fine."

"But, what about Dad?"

"He's fine too." He seemed upset last night, actually. He was tossing and turning.

"No, I meant about… aren't you going to say something to him? He's cheating on you. He is a cheater! He is having an affair with some other woman!"

"At least it's a woman?" _Or would it be better if it was a man?_

"At least-" Stevie threw her hands up. "Mom! Are you not going to say anything- do anything?! He is a..." She looked ready to cry. "He is a cheater, Mom. He's like all those other guys. He's a cheater."

Elizabeth felt a redness creep up her neck. "Stop calling him that."

"Why? That's what he is, right?"

"He is a person with feelings and..."

Stevie smacked her hand down on the bedspread. "Don't tell me you feel bad? Or guilty?" She huffed. "You making excuses for him doesn't change the fact that Dad is not the man that any of us thought he was."

"Us?" Elizabeth turned piercing eyes on her eldest. "Who else knows about what you saw?"

Stevie turned watery eyes away. "I told Dad that I knew, and that I'd told you. He just looked so happy; so confident that we wouldn't find out."

_Well, fuck._

"You told him that I knew that he was having an affair?"

Stevie nodded, reluctantly. "You don't deserve this, Mom. He doesn't deserve you."

_How wrong you are, child._

* * *

"Henry." She breathed out. Elizabeth had again walked briskly, away from Stevie, down the stairs, and to Henry.

He was sitting very quietly on the sofa. An old, black and white and fuzzy, show was on, the volume a few clicks from zero. He was wearing that rumpled black t-shirt of his, and those really high shorts that he usually only slept in. He looked beautiful and sad.

"Henry?" She said once more, upon reaching the sofa.

He looked up, red eyes and a tight grip on the remote. "Stevie thinks I'm cheating on you."

"I know."

"She said she already told you."

Elizabeth nodded.

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" His face looked so much like that tender boy she met at UVA oh so many years ago. "We could've talked to her together."

"I-"

"She called me a cheater. She said I was a cheater. She asked me how I could do it to you."

Elizabeth watched his lips turn down in a pout that suggest he was moments from tears, a trait that Jason shared with him. Their son shared with him.

"Henry-"

"I didn't cheat on you. I have never cheated on you. I would never..."

"I know."

Henry twisted his face. "Then why wouldn't you tell me? What, were you planning on getting the divorce papers ready beforehand?" He was angry now, and his face and his eyes had flushed the same color.

Elizabeth reached out to hold his hands in hers. "No, Henry. I would never ever divorce you." _Willingly at least. If you wanted to, then I wouldn't hold you there._

The words seemed to reassure him, and he suddenly drew her closer, arms inches from wrapping around her- but he held back. "Why didn't you then?"

_Tell him?_ "I didn't want to worry you; I know you've been working on the book."

Henry stared incredulously at her.

"I just… I thought… that if you were..."

"Having an affair."

"Yes, having an affair. I thought then that, maybe… it would be better for you… to just let it be."

"What?" Her husband looked genuinely confused.

"I just… I know I haven't been attentive lately, and I am so out of your league anyway, and you have great eggs, and Will said you wouldn't divorce because of Catholic, and you have the guilt anyway, and I didn't want you to have to suffer in this marriage as much as you already are, and I thought if she or he made you happy… then who was I to stop you from having someone in your life you enjoyed, someone who appreciates you and takes care of you and I know I haven't been very good at that lately and I thought that it would be mean and awful to take this away from you and you seemed really happy lately until this night and so I thought it would be better to just… let it be."

Henry drew back.

A rush of cold air passed between them.

Henry squeezed his eyes shut.

"Say something, please."

"I just need a moment."

The sound of Stevie's crying moved through the hallway and then her bedroom door clunked softy to a close. Jason and Alison shifted nervously in their rooms, unsure of what was causing the tension in the house and too afraid to leave their rooms to find out. A long honk came from outside.

"You are my wife because I love you and want to spend every waking minute with you being forever and wherever attached to you. A permanent reminder that we are linked. I had children with you because I wanted to have a walking-talking reminder of our love. I wanted to raise a human being with you. I wanted to be part of blessing the world with more of Elizabeth McCord. Not because I am Catholic. And for the record, I am not suffering. I am in love. So, in love, that even the pain is pleasurable because I get to experience it with you. With the knowledge that I am in this pain because I am with you. The knowledge that I am with you- that I am your husband- being such a blessing, such an aphrodisiac, that I cannot help but love it all- even the pain. I want to be your husband for as long as I am breathing. And when I am with you: I feel the way you look at me. I feel like a grand scholar, a wizard, a poet, a prince. I feel special and amazing. Like I am capable of everything you believe me to be. You make me feel that way. Not anyone else." Henry cupped her cheek. "You are everything to me. And you make me feel loved and appreciated every day when you wake up and look at me. You are the Secretary of State- you are a human being. Neither of us will ever have all the time in the world to spend with each other. But that's okay, cuz I have you right here." He tapped the center of his chest. "Where it counts."

And Elizabeth could breathe again. He was her husband because he wanted to be.

Henry brushed a loose strand from her eyes. "Don't ever talk about my wife like she's less than the whole world, again. Understood?" And then he kissed her, tenderly and with the softness of a habit that she knew would remain a habit.

Stevie was going to be so happy.

...


End file.
